All language subtitles for Strathblair s01e08 Coming to Terms

That's what I call real Venice.

A royal beast.

Well, you'll have to see what we can do
for you tomorrow.

I want a 12 -pointer. Nothing else will
do, Andrew. A royal.

What do you say, Charles?

Is this greatest living or what?

Most greatest.

And much appreciated.

In fact, if I may propose a little toast
to our host and hostess.

Oh, not hostess.

I'm only an employee.

Oh, hardly.

You're a friend, first and foremost.

Hey, Flora, if I thought I could get a
pretty lady factor like you, I'd buy

myself a piece of the Highlands.

Well, here's to the two of you.

Whatever you are.

In the third month of pregnancy, it is
advisable now and again to take a little

exercise.

That's one thing we're not short of.

Well, if I don't get a good price for
these lambs tomorrow, it won't matter a

damn whether Sir James throws us out or
not.

Is Andrew going to speak to him again?

For all the good it'll do.

I don't suppose you've got time to help
me with a little bit of exercise?

What a cheeky wee baggage you're
becoming.

It's being so close to nature.

So, what do you think of our little
proposition, Andrew?

Interesting. I'll say.

I can sell you stuff for New York.

That's easy. That's comfortable.

But Charles here has connections all the
way down to East Coast.

Oh, not all the way. Donald exaggerates.

Do you live in America, Mr. Somerville?

On and off. My father was on the staff
of the British ambassador to the States

during the war.

I pop back and forth, you know.

Pop. Pop.

What connections he don't have aren't
worth having.

It's a big market.

You think he can handle it?

Possibly.

There speaks the Candy Scott.

My clients would be interested in
anything of tradition and value. And

what they've got to sell in this
country.

Tradition.

Thank you, Niven.

Good night, Joe. Good night, Joe.

All these big houses with estates
stuffed full of family.

Airrooms, antiques.

No money after the war?

How do they pay the bills?

They sell, bit by bit.

Then more and more.

Rock, stop.

Come back.

Now, you've got somebody here with a
good eye for antiquity.

Somebody who knows the value of things.
Someone they trust.

Speaks the local lingo.

We could clean up.

Think of it as helping to fill the
dollar gaps.

Oh, hello, Father.

Good evening.

How is your Chamber of Commerce evening?

Donald. Sir James, we've spoken on the
phone. I'm immensely pleased to greet

at last, sir.

Father, Donald Telfer, my business
associate.

How do you do? Very well, sir, very well
indeed. And can I introduce a colleague

of mine, Charles Somerville?

Somerville? So pleased to meet you, Sir
James, and thank you for this wonderful

hospitality. Yes, so sorry you couldn't
dine with us, Sir James. Well, business

matters, you know.

Don't I just?

Good evening, Flora. You look very nice.

Thank you.

Can I get you a drink, Father?

Is that my 15 -year -old brandy?

For it, sir.

In that case, I will have one. Thank
you.

Hope to make a killing on your land
tomorrow, Sir James.

I beg your pardon?

Andrew's going to take me on a shoot.

Really? Right.

Get myself a stag. That is, if the old
army training holds true.

Well, we have quite a few.

If you miss one, you'll probably hit
another.

Thank you.

Somerville.

Any relation to Alistair Somerville, the
whiskey exporter?

No, unfortunately, diplomacy runs in the
family, not whiskey.

Well, they both oil the wheels of state,
do they not?

So, here's to diplomacy.

My dad better go, they'll find it.

Here's some better.

Spitting himself up for his chip to
chin.

You may tell him the like.

Good morning.

Morning.

Father? Mm -hmm?

I don't want to get us into yet another
conflict, but, um, I promised Alec

Ritchie... I have not yet decided one
way or the other about the forestry

project.

Well, he's worried thick.

No doubt.

I'm sorry, but giving good grazing land
over to planting trees, it just seems to

me such an exploitation.

Let he who is without sin... What?

Your friend Telfer was telling me about
his plans to pillage our ancestral homes

and ship the spoils overseas to our
apacious American cousins, using you, I

believe, as some sort of pointer to
sniff out where the biggest profits are.

Now that is what I would call
exploitation.

Umberto! Arrivo!

Are you coming out or not?

Well, well.

Didn't he look as ugly as usual?

Almost presentable, in fact.

And you look very, very nice.

Now, Willie here is the stalker.

He'll track the beast for you.

And you, Donald, are the rifle.

Okay.

Let's have it, then. Not until the shot
is to be made, sir.

Safety precaution. Oh, and just one
thing, gentlemen.

Deer don't like conversation.

Huh? Once we get in range, deer have
extremely acute hearing, so mum's the

Huh. No problem for me.

Should we go for a wee practice, then?

What about your tea?

I haven't got any.

Richard? Fine, sir.

That's what's for hunting, then. Yeah,
it's my American friend here on Stag's

head for wool.

Seems such a waste.

Well, um, deer have to be culled, Mrs.
Richard.

And have you seen the damage they do to
the trees?

I should have thought the less trees
around here, the better.

Well, I'll just go my way.

Good luck with the market, Alex. Good
luck with the shoot, sir.

The Major has a duty to his father,
Jenny, as well as to me. A duty?

So now we're being fooled, is it?

There's nothing wrong with being a
soldier. I know!

I'm sorry.

Shall we just enjoy our day out?

How you doing?

I was just talking about you.

Oh, yes?

I was just saying to the lads, if they
need any good advice on how to get a

price for a sheep, you're the man to
contact.

Good old Scottish custom, huh?

Yes, indeed.

Say, you thought about it, Andrew?

About what?

You know what.

Got you in my sights, Andrew.

What? I didn't have any breakfast this
morning. The button's starving.

Will I get you a sandwich?

Are you offering to buy?

Aye.

Every time he takes a coin out of his
pocket, Britannia blinks at the light.

Away with you. So, what will I get you?

Cheese and tomato. It will be lovely.

I'll have a gammon roll.

Then you can slam on the mustard.

Okay, one cheese and tomato and one
gammon roll. Coming up, huh?

He's looking very handsome today, huh,
Mr. Umberto?

Oh, shut up, you.

So, I'm Bertram.

A nice name.

Like a film star.

I wish I was.

Oh, I think you look like one.

Doesn't he, me?

Aye.

Lassie.

No, I think more like, er, Cary Grant or
Bing Crosby, even. Crosby?

Look about the ears.

No, I like them.

I like foreign men.

They're very...

Who was that woman we saw you with
earlier? Was that your mother?

No.

She's a neighbour.

Uh -huh.

So, uh, what size is this farm of yours?

It's a fair size.

It's big enough, yes.

Oh, is it?

Is it big enough?

Well, it's longer than it's broad,
but...

Oh. See you later, maybe, eh?

I'll be down the back for another second
later.

I'll give you a weave.

I'll give you a weave as well.

Okay, later on, eh?

Aye, well, I've spotted a wee herd and
there's a stag or two lurking about.

We'll leave the pony man here.

And from now on, you'd better keep the
noise down.

How is Mr. Andrew?

Call the nature.

Right, ladies and gentlemen, if you'll
give me your attention, we'll begin

today's sale.

I have more luck with sheep than family.

Come on, gentlemen.

Come on.

56, for God's sake.

57. That's very good.

for the shot.

And that's where we'll go.

Forty -two.

Forty -four bed. Forty -six bed. Forty
-eight bed. This would often run him.

Come on, gentlemen, fifty bed.

And fifty bed, and fifty bed, and fifty
bed, and fifty bed, and fifty...

No.

No, thanks.

Fifty -two and fifty -four.

Fifty -four. Fifty -four and fifty
-five.

Fifty -six.

Fifty -six and fifty -six.

Fifty -six and fifty -six. Fifty -six
and fifty -six. Fifty -six shillings.

Gentlemen, I could charge you this kind
of money.

Fifty -eight.

Fifty -eight. Fifty -eight. Fifty
-eight. Fifty -eight. Fifty -eight.

-eight. Fifty -eight.

Fifty -eight.

Fifty -eight.

Fifty -eight.

At 60 bit, at 60, 60, 62 bit, at 62, at
62, at 62, at 62, 64 bit, at

64, at 64, 64 shillings.

All finished now. At 64 shillings, the
best price of the day.

It moved just when I fired.

Sir, you couldn't hit a barn door if you
were standing on a padlock. I'm not

used to the gun.

What the hell's so funny?

Sorry. I was just trying to imagine you
standing on a padlock.

Don't worry, partner.

Plenty more stags.

And we've got the whole day.

Never mind.

We'll do better next year.

You won't be here next year.

Well, boy, how are you, man?

Hello there, Gibby.

Oh, I suppose you made your usual mint
at the field.

Aye, not bad, not bad.

Fair to meddle in. That good, eh?

Who's the young man here?

Oh, who's here instead?

Robert.

Is this Mary's boy?

That's right.

I might have known.

You look just like her.

Cross the eyes.

Oh, aye.

You and your mother's son, all right.

If you'll excuse me a minute, Gibby.

So, Mary's boy, eh?

Don't you think you ought to go easy on
that stuff, Andrew?

Well, drunk or sober, still a better
shot than you.

Well, I'm sure Donald was just unlucky.

No, no, he's right, Charles.

After all, I was at the back during the
war.

Supplies.

Andrew here was at the sharp end.

Weren't you, Andrew?

Sharp enough.

Coriano Bridge and all that stuff?

Okay, I'll tell you what.

When and if Willie finds the next stag,
you make the shot.

Show me how to do it.

For the honor of the British Army.

Here's Alistair, laying down the law as
usual.

It's a speciality.

He and I were rivals in love, you know.

Really? Oh, aye.

To your granny's hand.

But he was aye a better dancer than me,
so that swayed her somewhat.

My grandfather?

Dancing?

At the Cayley?

Once he'd had a few.

Hands are right up her feet.

What was she like, my grandma?

Jeannie?

Lovely woman.

She died early, poor soul.

No long after Mary was born.

So Mary was all he had.

The apple of his eye.

Was she? Oh, definitely so.

When she left, he must have broke his
heart.

Listen to me, I'm telling you.

Are you looking for him?

The eye tie, are you looking?

What business is it of yours?

Well, you'll find him over there. And
he's got company.

You want a cigarette?

No. We may start a fire.

I still think you look like a picture
star.

Do you kiss like one?

I don't know how they kiss.

Of course you do.

Won't you?

Aye, you've done them all right.

Well done, sir.

One up to the Black Watch, Andrew.

You're such

a

good shot after us, sir.

You hit him along the back.

Now stand back, please, if you will.

You filthy,

smelly, fleshless thing!

The first weed that John hit you coming
across, you can't even wait to glue

yourself on!

Ah, per favore, have the right to look
at the pretty girl!

You're here on borrowed time, Mr
Spaghetti.

One word for me in the right place and
you're shipped back to Italy where you

belong. Hanging upside down through a
lamppost like your pal Mussolini.

You're my Orman.

That's all you are.

That and nothing else.

If I catch you with another wee whore,
then you can kiss goodbye to Bonnie

Scotland forever.

Out of a damn shape!

Have you got that?

Well done, Andrew.

I'll give the ponyman the nod, sir.

I'll do it.

Thank you, sir.

I'll catch up with you later.

I thought the Scots could hold their
drink.

Nah, he's all right.

We need him, Charles.

That's all I got.

He'll catch up with us, will he?

Aye, well, most likely he's over home to
put his feet up.

I want another shot.

How about it?

Aye. I'll try and find you a big herd.

You mean if I miss one, I might hit
another, right?

That's the idea.

Isn't that just like the bloody thing?

Take care.

Private East.

Dead.

Private Palmer.

Dead. Private Chisholm. Dead.

Private Finley. Dead.

We have to pull back, Doc. Private
Stratton. Dead.

Private McIntosh.

fucking ghost. He's dead.

But God messed up pizza.

Go fuck yourself.

I wondered if Andrew might be with you.

Obviously not. You haven't seen him,
have you?

No. Why?

Well, they're just back from the stalk.

Seemingly, he left them some time ago
and there's no sign of them in the

That's strange.

Also, it appears that he'd been
drinking.

Probably wandering around lost.

Well, this ought to keep us going for a
while.

All we can do now is wait.

For Sir James to make his decision.

Until the axe falls.

Mr Ritchie, is Sergeant Brodie here?

Certainly come away in.

Sir, it's Mr W.

I don't suppose you've seen Major Mingus
at all?

Not since this morning, no. Why?

Oh, it seems he's gone missing somewhere
up in the moors.

Sir James just rang me.

I'm organising a search party and I'm
wondering if... Sure, just give me a

minute.

For how long has he been missing?

I don't know.

It'll be four or five hours. God
almighty.

You'll be all right on your own? Yes, of
course I will. Off you go.

I'd put that money out of sight if I was
you, Mrs. Ripley.

Oh, yes, I shall. Thank you.

Good luck.

Sir James, is there anything we can do?

You've done quite enough already.

Don't worry, Charles. They'll find him.

I do hope so, for all our sakes.

Ray!

We're still up here.

And one last thing.

If any one of you come upon any sign or
trace of Major Mingus, then a member of

your party should raise the alarm.

Ray, my group's ready.

If you're going to have these slopes,
then I'll take the lead.

I can this land better than anybody.

She's right, Brodie.

Well, if you think you know.

I know.

Well, after you, then.

Time for work.

You're a pain in mind, aren't you?

Pardon?

From now on, watch where you're going.

Sir James?

Come in.

I thought you might like a cup of tea.

Oh, thank you so much.

No news, I suppose.

Not yet.

What an absurd fuss to be making.

What an idiot that boy is.

I don't know it's his fault. He should
not have been drinking.

But he's had a lot on his mind lately.

So he keeps telling me.

He's been going on and on about the
forestry business and Ritchie.

Well, frankly, this sort of behaviour
just makes me think I should ignore him

and go ahead with the whole project.

I think the important thing is to get
Andrew back safe.

After that, well, that's your decision,
Sir James.

All right, we'll move round the head of
the crag now.

What about down here?

I could have to be daft at lunch or
something like that.

Right lad, round we go.

Aye, daft.

Well, wherever he is, there's no up
there.

No, that's for sure.

Right, it's getting cold now.

He's in this neck of the woods.

He's wearing his long johns.

The men.

They're coming.

They're coming.

Where am I?

Not the boat and the tractor.

Not the bridge.

No.

No. Not the bridge.

No.

Let's get you home.

Made my bacon again, Alec.

What's going on, sir?

Getting into a habit.

I'll be up in a minute.

Some folks shouldn't be let out at
night.

I'm starving.

They've found him, Sir James.

They're bringing him back in the pony
now, Sir.

How is he?

Well, it could be worse.

He's got a guy -bad knee, suffering a
bit from exposure.

But we got him just in time. It's under
damn cold night out there.

Where was he?

In that wee forest at the bottom of the
crag.

God knows how the Major found himself
down there. It's a place I would never

have suspected looking, nor anyone else
for that matter.

Who found him?

Alec Ritchie.

You have him to thank, Sir James.

What's this?

Elephant stew.

Two salty.

Still looks better than nothing, I
suppose.

Like many other things.

What are you telling me about here,
Trish?

What?

Nothing.

Just fancied a wee bit of your dance,
that's all.

Hope you've found the Major.

I've gone to spend all your money on
baby clothes and tree -filling

Your loving, woolly wife, Jenny.

P .S. Come to bed quick.

I brought you some flowers.

Thank you.

How's the invalid?

Oh, not too bad.

Managed to dislocate my knee.

And I shan't be drinking much whiskey
for a while.

Sounds you right.

Quite a night, eh?

Oh, one good thing, miss. My father came
in this morning and told me he's not

going ahead with the forestry project.

Not this year, anyway.

Really?

Alec Ritchie will be pleased.

Yes. I owe Alec Ritchie some good news,
wouldn't you say?

Well, he was the hero of the night.

Not for the first time.

You know Alec Ritchie and I fought
together at Coriano Bridge.

Yes.

But you never really talked about it.

No, I haven't.

It was what they like to call a
subaltern's battle.

In other words, an appalling bloody
mess.

We were supposed to secure the bridge,
my company spearheading the attack.

We came under heavy enemy fire almost
immediately. We advanced and lost radio

contact. That's like fighting blind.

Anyway, we pressed on and were hit by
intense mortar fire on our right flank,

which shouldn't have been happening,
according to the recce chaps.

A slaughterhouse, really.

What a bloody business.

That's when Alec Ritchie appeared by my
side.

He was extraordinary.

And do you know, he was the youngest
sergeant in the battalion, just 24 years

old.

He told me that Peter Blakey, the
signals officer, was dead, and CFM's

and that we should retire.

I said we had to stick where we were.

He said that the right -flank platoon
had been pretty badly cut up,

over 50 % casualties, and we really
should pull back.

What did you do?

Nothing.

It was probably only a minute or two,
but it seemed like an eternity.

I just couldn't decide.

And then I was hit.

It turned out to be a chunk of shrapnel
at the time.

I thought I'd been blinded. A lot of
blood. Couldn't see a thing. I thought I

was dying, actually.

Then, above the din, the last voice I
heard before I passed out was

Richie's.

He took command, in effect.

Supervised the withdrawal.

He was, by all accounts, remarkably
brave.

Altogether, my company suffered
approximately 70 % casualties.

God knows how many died while I was
still making up my mind.

I lost my husband at Anzio, Andrew.

I know that.

I know the kind of man you had.

I just wanted you to know the kind you
might be getting.